Fine
by RazMaKaz
Summary: Post-6x22 Sam keeps saying he's fine...


Sam felt hot. He always felt hot these days. It was like someone had turned on an oven and left the room.

"Sam," Dean said, glancing over at him from the driver's side of the stolen truck. Sam opened his eyes and tilted his head forward. He hadn't realized he'd started to doze off. After making a nondescript noise, he looked at this brother. The expression on Dean's face was some kind of concern mixed with a little annoyance. It was the same look Sam had been getting for days. Before Dean could ask, Sam answered his question.

"I'm fine, Dean," he sighed, leaning his head back again. "You keep asking me that."

It was more of a statement than a complaint. He really didn't mind Dean constantly rattling him for a personal status report; it kept him alert and made it so he couldn't mentally wander off. That, above everything else, was something he feared doing the most these days. He worried, often, that one day he'd wander off and never find his way back.

"Don't worry, Bobby's got a line on Cas," Dean said, looking at his brother again.

"And what's he going to do? He hates us," Sam sighed, closing his eyes again, suddenly tired. "He barely let us out of Crowley's alive."

"He said he'd fix you, Sam. He said that when this was all over he'd put you back together-"

"That was before he tapped into Purgatory and sucked it dry," Sam barked, crossing his arms angrily over his chest. "Besides, I'm fine."

"Yeah," Dean snorted. "You _look_ fine."

"And what if Cas does help us? You really think he's just going to put my ducks in a row and let us leave? He gave us a head start, if anything. We should be running the other way, Dean. This is beyond us-"

"Hey, nothing is beyond us, Sam," Dean said, pointing his finger in Sam's face and punctuating it with a stern glare. Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. He wasn't sure what he believed. He knew that Cas had promised to make things right; to repair the wall in his head. But, by the same token, he had all but lost faith in the situation. Technically, he had put himself back together. Sure, it was a little like using tacky glue to build a car, but it held. Most of the time.

And, anyway, Cas was way too far off the reservation. Sam was starting to think they weren't going to come out of this one alive...

"You gonna hurl?" Dean asked, switching gears. At first it seemed like a ridiculous question, but then Sam remembered that he'd done it at least a few times in the last week. For some reason he always felt dizzy, like whatever was going on in his brain was happening too fast.

"No, I'm fine," Sam said, distracted. He felt his stomach roll, but he bit it back. A bead of sweat trickled down his back and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and fiddled with one of the A/C vents.

"You still hot?" Dean asked, stupidly.

"I'm _fine_."

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Dean said, obviously a little more than pissed.

There was a long stretch of silence which Sam took advantage of. He closed his eyes and quelled the nausea. But once that problem had been solved, he felt another erupt. He knew to expect it, but every time it came he still was unprepared. Usually, his head was full of static. He would get the occasional image of some awful thing or another, but he could usually shake it off. But when the images came too fast; when he began to _feel _things instead of just see them, that's when it all got so much worse.

That was when he wasn't so 'fine' anymore.

"When we get to Bobby's I want to check out some contacts in the area," Dean said suddenly to the windshield. He hated silence. Sam always knew that. "I guess Cas came into town a few days ago looking for a couple angels that had touched down. Bobby says they're all ganging up on his ass and if you ask me...Sam?" Dean looked over as he spoke and stopped mid-sentence when he saw Sam pressing a hand to his forehead.

"Hey, you with me over there?" he asked, concerned, but calm.

When Sam didn't answer, Dean pulled the car over. "Sam? Talk to me, what's going on?"

"I can kinda feel it..." Sam said through gritted teeth.

"Feel what?"

"I don't know," Sam sighed, frustrated. He never truly understood what he was looking at when he remembered Hell and, he supposed, that was a very good thing. Except, it was still like watching a movie someone had chopped up and randomly put back together. It was confusing and not a little painful.

Dean didn't try to get more out of him. Instead, he just turned the car off and palmed the keys absently. Every now and then Sam would groan and Dean would look at him, but that was about it. And, when everything was over and Sam was gasping for breath, Dean just handed him a bottle of water and waited.

"I'm fine..." Sam said weakly.

"Yeah...you keep saying that," Dean said sadly. And as he turned the engine back on and pulled back onto the highway, Sam noticed that car was moving just a little bit faster than before.


End file.
